forum Back to Where We Once Were....(oxo) (closed)

Started February 28, 2022 by @knightinadream group

tune

(Thanks for letting me know. Just an fyi, I won't really be active much next week, but I'll do my best with responses.)

All Maximillian could do was push his see-sharpeners further up on his nose. Worry had settled deep within him, resting comfortably in his chest. A nonchalant expression canvassed on his face as the sounds of Her Grace's gasp sends tension all through him.

He nodded his head; right, there is no right way of bringing such news aside from not cowarding with it. As a healing mage, there are multiple ways to say things; most of which are neither good nor bad, yet still do not do their job in providing any comfort or knowledge. Maximillian despises this as much as he despises the demeanor that he brings onto himself. "Paralysis is a tricky symptom and condition. It is something we cannot figure out in our lifetimes," He sighed, "But it is possible that His Grace's will go away. It might be collateral from grief or lack of eating."

Shifting in the chair, he stared at Duchess Winn. He couldn't help but noticed the way her gaze was drifting off. The look on her face made him wonder where or not he should ask her if she's alright. And yet, he was more than thankful to see a grin on her face. How sweet and bright it is; Ivory must take after her in this way.

"Is that so? That is wonderful to hear, Your Grace," Maximillian smiled, "I am very honored. I hope that I can still be a good friend to him. His Grace is very important to me."

(Alrighty! School is starting soon for me, so my responses may be spotty as well)

Everything in Duchess Winn’s mind seemed to stop. It seemed she could not think anymore, and her skull control was empty of any thought or brain bubble. This caused the faraway look in her peepers as she listened to the healing mage, only vaguely cognizant of his words.
She glanced to the paper folded in her hand, trying to remember that there was a way to remedy the state of things, at least somewhat. When healing mage Solomon mentioned the possibility of the paralysis going away on its own, she nodded, more comforted and cognizant of things around her.
“I know. And I believe you will,” the duchess said, but her smile faded after that. “Thank you. Even if you had to deliver this unfortunate news, I am glad to know. I also thank you for your little list. It should help.”
She took a sip of elixir of tranquility to see if it would help her mind work again, and also tried to focus on her breath.

In his mind, he shuffled through cards of things to say. What is he going to say next? What should he say? While each patient is different- even if two have the same diagnosis or symptoms- he still sticks to a routine of what to say. There is the fact that Max has only been a healing mage for a few orbit parties now, but finding a routine has proven to be beneficial for the patients and their families, and himself as well.

Regardless, he cannot give false positivity for the sake of temporary relief; he sees it to be right, a fault that doctors alike always tend to commit. Despite his own means and morals, he wanted to say something.

With hands held on top of the table, his right thumb pressed down between his left thumb and index. Maximillian did everything in his power to muster up a noice little smile for the duchess. "It is a pleasure to be of help, Your Grace."

He only kept quiet not for long. To be quite honest, Max felt his peepers getting heavy, yet his mind was full of thoughts running around. "Is there anything else that I can take care of while I am here, or should I dismiss myself?" He released the tension in his hands, letting his back touch support of the chair. "I know that I am here to treat His Grace, but if you do need a check up or something of the sorts yourself, I would be much oblige."

She had to have faith; that was the conclusion she came to. Even if her dear son did not recover, if healing mage Solomon could not heal him, then surely God would work a miracle. The duchess would not fall prey to despair now, nor ever.
“Hm?” Duchess Winn set her teacup down. “Ah, I don’t think so. I’m deeply grateful for your services, healing mage, and I hope more progress can be made in the future. You may now be dismissed.”
She rose from her seat, giving him a simple bow of the head.

As of the current moment, he had no brain bubble where to put his confidence. Being divorced from one's emotions always makes these kind of things difficult. Besides anytime he hears a mention or thinks about Ivory, he feels his heart becoming warm and fuzzy. As healing mage Solomon, he knows he shouldn't be thinking in such a way.

Keeping his hand on the edge of the table, he rose up at the same time as Her Grace. Just as he was reaching down for his bag, he stopped halfway to give the duchess a forty-five degree bow. Then, of course, he finally wrapped his fingers around the handles and picked his bag up.

"It is my very pleasure, Your Grace," Maximillian smiled, "Do write to me if something comes up, but other than that, I'll be on my way and see you the day before overmorrow."

Before leaving the human containment unit, he turned around once more to give one final bow and then went off.

Duchess Winn smiled back, and watched as the healing mage took his leave. The manservants would give his coat and hat back to him as he neared the wobbly flip-shutter. As for Her Grace, she turned to her maid. “Have His Grace’s servants take a look at this,” she handed the paper back to her, “and we can start doing those little things that should help him. I’ll have the butler look for inside plants for his human containment unit.”
The maid took the paper and nodded, but her peepers flickered to the table. “Won’t you finish your breakfast, Your Grace?”
The duchess glanced back to the half-eaten meal still on the table. “Oh. It’s alright, I’ve lost my appetite.”

(I'm just writing my reply so then if you want to go ahead with a timeskip, you can. If you want me to, I can write another response. It's all good)

Maximillian was off of the Winn property under twenty minutes. He got on his horse, but initially hesitated to go. There was an urge biting him. As the reins were cluched in his hands, he looked over his shoulder in the direction of Ivory's chamber. Despite the initial urge to yawn, he ended up exhaling fora few seconds.

Exhaustion wore on his face. He let go of his left rein to wipe his face. Is it possible for him to think of things after not sleeping normally for a while? Max chuckled at the question. He shook his head before taking his left rein and having his horse go.

A little over half exactly 3600 seconds passed by until he was able to get home. He lived on the outskirts of the city. Not too far from his parents, not too from Ivory's, and not too far for anyone to go and get him. It is still morning, yet he was already getting ready for the day before overmorrow. Once Max knew he was prepared, he collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep. grimoires and journals sprawled all about around him.

For Maximillian it is strange. One moonlit hours he would be running around the city, taking care of the poor patients and a few nobles. Then another, he would be passed out on his bed and waking up to fix himself some sort of supper. That moonlit hours was the other. He isn't used to it. He stayed in the foyer, waiting for someone to be rapidly knocking on his wobbly flip-shutter, but there wasn't a single one. Eventually Max went back to bed.

Unlike the previous morning, he woke up without the urge to jump into his usual healing mage clothes and run out of his home. He felt rather slow, although his definition of slow is different compared to others. All he ate before leaving was ham and eggs with a roll, thanks to a neighbor.

Just about ten after nine, he got on his horse and rode off to the Winn estate. While on the way, he looked up to see the sky and its little clouds. Of course everything was a little gray and gloomy, but he had hopes for the weather to brighten up. All he can do is hope.

He got off the horse. Energy coursed through him. Warmth pressed his cheeks. This is only his second visit as Ivory's healing mage, but the thoughts of yesterday hung over his head. As he approached the entrance, he tried to shake off the buzz in his chest, but he just couldn't manage to.

His Grace slept on and off throughout the day, as was becoming commonplace. Time became blurred, but Ivory didn’t mind it so much. He found sleeping to be better than being awake, anyway. When he was awake though, his servants did their best to feed him, as well as follow healing mage Solomon’s advice. Curtains were drawn back and the see-through wall opened, letting in more light and a fuller view of the gardens. Plants had been sent for, waiting to be transferred to his human containment unit.
His condition was difficult to track between his slumber and wakefulness. His Grace tended to say that he was fine or tired, and not much beyond that, though when he vomited after eating his supper, his true condition was quite apparent. His hands were unmoving.
Sleeping was always better. The energy spent on being awake was too costly these days. Though, Ivory remembers settling down for the moonlit hours, and having a strange dream. It seemed to be mostly about Maximillian. Ivory himself might have been there too, but he couldn’t quite remember now. Max had been a ankle-biter in the garden, standing in the sun and laughing. Had it been Max? Something about him had been off. Ivory wasn’t sure what. He saw only a glimpse of him before the dream went dark. Then he heard muffled sounds. Max appeared again as a man, and this time he was certain that it was him. Ivory himself must have been there too, because he felt very close to him. He remembered touching his face, his hair, his arms, his legs… the images were fuzzy in his mind now, an impression of movement and sound. That was all he remembered.
Now Ivory laid in bed, trying to hold onto what pieces of the dream he could before it slipped into the void of his mind. Something about it made him uneasy. He remembered feeling good in the moment, but now it was rather unnerving. Maybe he should just go to sleep again, and have a different dream. But his peepers were glued to the open see-through wall, hoping for a figure to come into view. When he saw the shape of a man on a horse dash by, he smiled to himself. He would stay awake.

Max removed his hat just as the wobbly flip-shutter opened. His fingers tapped against the brim. The excitement of seeing Ivory is what is preventing him from being tired, but he also has to be professional and not really jazzed. Yet he gets jazzed anytime he thinks about Ivory, yet he has to not be as a healing mage. How can he even do such a thing?

He can. He is going to do this for Ivory; he will do this for Duchess Winn as well. Speaking of which, maybe he should go to Duchess Winn. No no, he will go to her afterwards. Or maybe he should just stay here and wait.

After handing his hat and coat to someone, his right hand clenched the handle of his medical bag. His right index finger tapped the handle. Lifting his chin up, he let his peepers wander around at the ceiling and up and down the columns.

Deep down within his conscious, he already made a decision. His groundhands turned towards the direction of Ivory's chamber. The long strides carried him over before he could say anything. There was only a split second of high-res hallucination before he reached the wobbly flip-shutter.

He pressed his ear to the wobbly flip-shutter. Once he was assured with silence, he stood back then carefully knocked. The corners of his lips already getting ready to turning into a smile.

As he waited, he couldn’t help but think back to the previous day. Had he been too affectionate perhaps? You are not supposed to behave in such ways towards your physician, yes? And yet, it had been so long… and Maximillian didn’t seem to mind, right? They had been apart, and now they are reunited, it must only be natural. Though perhaps today they wouldn’t have to spend so much time catching up, and hopefully start to figure things out.
He almost didn’t hear the knock. Ivory turned his head to the wobbly flip-shutter and said, “Come in.” For some reason, he didn’t want to get his hopes up. It must be some manservant coming with breakfast, right? It was hope against hope.
He couldn’t help but beam once Maximillian opened the wobbly flip-shutter. Adjusting his see-sharpeners a little, he had to refrain from crying out with joy. “Salutations from the Shire, Maximillian! It is good to see you.”
The sickly duke was in his bed, just as he had been the previous day. He was clothed in simple but expensive looking nightwear, sitting up but with the fluffed pillows behind him giving him the option to lie down if needed. The single see-through wall was open, of course, letting fresh air and morning light.

There was no hesitation when he opened the wobbly flip-shutter. A wave of shivers and joy greeted him as he laid peepers on Ivory. It is like the sun shining down on you while you walk into the most bonita garden you've ever seen. God, is this what every man feels when he when he….

"Ivory…." He breathed. Closing the wobbly flip-shutter behind him, he only needed to take a few long strolls before council gathering Ivory at the bedside. This rapid image of him leaning over and his lips briefly pressing against his friend's forehead shot through his mind. He blinked with wide peepers then returned to beam brightly.

Rather in a more affectionate tone, he pressed his hand onto Ivory's forehead to feel his temperature. "And it is good to see you, my dear friend." His hand slid down to his friend's cheek. Then his thumb brushed ever so gently before he removed it a second later.

His peepers flickered over towards the open see-through wall. "I see that Her Grace read over my insights carefully, hm…." Taking off his see-sharpeners, he sat them down on the end table. "But is any of it making you feel better than yesterday?"

Maximillian’s voice alone could restore him back to health, he swears. If not that, then his touch too. Ivory leaned into his hand, closing his peepers briefly as his friend brushed his cheek. His temperature had settled into normalcy somewhat, though Ivory did feel a little warm.
He followed Max’s gaze and looked out the see-through wall. “Ahh, yes. Her Grace is meticulous with these things.” He thought for a moment. “I do believe I feel better than I did during your last visit. The effects of the fever must have passed, and I do not feel as nauseous.” He looked back at Max. “That is probably because I was made to eat and drink more, though I will say that I still do not feel hungry, and eating is… difficult, sometimes. My hands are still paralyzed as well.”

(Ahh sorry it’s short)

He smiled a little, knowing that his face was burning as it flared a bright shade of pink. All he could picture himself doing is leaning down and pressing his lips on Ivory's cheek. No, that's too foolish of him to think. Not just foolish, but right.

Maximillian looked at Ivory. He giggled, "I can recall that she is, but I am glad those things are helping." At least the little things are helping; he knows that some doctors immediately jump to certain conclusions. He doesn't want to or at least not yet.

"It is alright. You are doing your best, and that is all I can ask for," He assured. Tilting his head down a little, he took a look at Ivory's hands. Max gently took one of them into his, and gently began to massage it just like yesterday. "Can you still feel my hands touching or any tingling sensations in them?"

He studied Max for a moment, then smiled as he giggled. “Yes, me too. At least, I hope so. I did hope the aconitum napellus would help, but it seems not.”
Ivory tilted his head, raising an eyebrow and laughing a little himself. “But my friend, it is not I who is doing anything. Isn’t it you who trying to find a way to return me to health? My body is just doing what it always does when there is something right with it, no? It is you who are doing your best, Max, and I thank you dearly for it.”
After giving him that little talking to, he looked down at his hands. “Ah, that is a good question…” He deliberated for a moment, trying to see what he could sense, then said, “I cannot feel your hands, but I think I feel something tingling. I… I’m not sure.”
The feeling was hard to describe. It was tingling, but muted, muffled. Or maybe not. Maybe it was more of a buzzing, like his hand had just fallen asleep and was waking up again. Or not.
Ivory sighed softly, then looked up at the healing mage. “Max… are you alright? Your cheeks look flushed. I hope you’re just warm, and not growing ill either.”

How can giggles send arrows straight into his heart? The weight of them made his peepers grow wide. "Those things take time. You're supposed to be using it regularly then eventually it should do what it is intended for," Max explained. He lightly touched the tip of Ivory's nose. "Patience is a virtue, my beloved friend."

Max lifted his head, as if looking up at the ceiling would help him find something to say. "There are multiple parties involved, my beloved…..You have me, the healing mage, then your body and your mind. All three, we must work together in a way so then all of you will get well." He placed one of Ivory's hands down to brush his friend's hair. "If you are thanking me for what I must do, then I am going to thank you too. And do not take it back, Ivory."

"Aah I see…" Paralysis is a condition, an occurrence, in the medical field that even well experienced doctors do not know much about. They might know when Max becomes old. It might take a century or two. The lack of knowledge makes him scared and anxious; it fights the pride he holds as a healing mage. He patted the hand he held.

"What? Oh….no…no…" He is ill, but not in a way like Ivory or any of his other patients. Regardless, Maximillian cannot tell anyone, especially Ivory. Squeezing Ivory's hand, he chuckled a little. "I am just warm. You know I am more built for colder temperatures….But my cheeks look flushed?"

(ah he didn’t giggle, he just smiled, but it doesn’t really matter)

Ivory blinked, a little surprised when Max tapped his nose. Still, he smiled. “You are quite right. I hope I am not being too impatient, then.”
As much as he tried to listen to his friend, he could not help but zone out when Max called him ‘beloved’ and did not attach the word ‘friend’ at the end. Did that mean something? Surely not, and yet he loved it more than he should. Brushing his hair did not help things, he only became giddy with the soft touch. Ivory just chuckled and said, “Alright, alright.”
He came out of it as Max patted his hand. He studied his friend carefully. Although a conclusion about the paralysis would be noice, Ivory wasn’t particularly concerned with it at the moment. He only didn’t like that it made him a near invalid.
“Yes!” He surprised himself with his own energy. He narrowed his peepers suspiciously at Maximillian. For some reason, he couldn’t believe it. It was not that warm in here, not with the see-through wall open. “You look like a young school boy, besotted with some girl!” He laughed, “Oh, forgive me. But you know, it is a wonder why you haven’t married yet, Max. I mean, I’m sure your work keeps you busy enough, but all the same…” he smirked playfully. “There are many women who would want a young healing mage such as yourself. Has one caught your peeper, perhaps?”

(Also, we love Ivy being completely oblivious and yet lowkey horny at the same time lol)

(azhxhslahzg im sorry. max is down bad to point where im misreading things lmao)

"You are perfectly fine," Max smiled, "Everyone says the same thing. Everyone wants things to happen in an instant, but our bodies like to take their time. It's all perfectly normal."

Except his has to be the oddest. Maximillian is more than confident that is warm in this human containment unit. The open see-through wall is not enough. His heart feels heavy. He probably should have taken his handkerchief out or looked for a manservant to ask for a glass of water. Surely the temperature has risen. It cannot just be himself after all.

Max sat taken aback by the sudden burst of energy. In the following moments, he continued to sit there with surprise. Besotted with some girl? Well, he is besotted with someone in particular for sure. He shook his head at Ivory's smirk. "I do not believe it is a wonder, my dear Ivory…."

A woman had caught his peeper, but now someone else has. Initially, he wishes to not speak about either. If anything, he would be happy to avoid topic entirely. It all was and is his fault in the end.

"One did, a while ago….I suppose," He shrugged. "But besides, I find myself to be an oddity. No one would want to be married or to love to such a thing."

(and we really do love Ivory for that. i love his energy)

(Lololol honestly mood-)

He calmed quickly. In fact, the sudden outburst left him rather dizzy. Ivory had to pause, close his peepers for a moment and wait for his perception to settle. “Oh, Maximillian…”
He chuckled and opened his peepers, watching his friend with a raised brow. “Oh? Ah well. I can understand that. I’m not surprised that I’m not married yet either, despite mother being desperate for me to find someone.”
There were many reasons for this, at least in his mind. He was also an oddity. Too obsessed with plants and work, not even that handsome. He also finds it difficult to talk to women. He has tried before, but something always seems to go unsaid or it becomes awk-wonky-donky.
Still feeling a little dizzy, he laid back and rested his head on the pillows. “Mmm. Perhaps we can be oddities together, Max. I think that would be splendid.”

If Max can be honest for a second, he's surprised that Ivory hasn't married yet. Who wouldn't want to be wed to a bright, warm, handsome, caring, and knowledgeable gentleman like him? He is kind beyond compare and loves plants. Arguably, Maximillian sees that there is no better suitor than Ivory. It is a shame to the world….Perhaps he is getting too carried away with this thought or rather train of thoughts.

"I see. Your mother and mine seem to be on the same boat," He sighed. Max shook his head, but ended up putting on an assuring smile. "Maybe you have already found them and just don't know it yet. It could be possible."

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His face turned pink, practically matching the resemblance of a bright pink rose. "Together?" Maximillian shook his head. No, obviously Ivory doesn't mean it in a particular way. He gleamed. "Oddities together…Of course, I'd love that! If only they have flowers or something for oddities." He caressed his friend's head. Oddities, he would love to be oddities with Ivory. He would love to be more with Ivory, if he could.

Ivory sighed with him. “I doubt it. But I appreciate your words.” He was not at all surprised that he wasn’t married already. Who would want to marry someone like him? The brain bubble that someone would see him in that way is odd, unlikely. He has tried to tell Her Grace about it, but she was firm and determined to set him up with someone. Of course, those efforts had been put aside as of the current situation, but once he was well, she knew she would get back to it.
He blinked as Maximillian’s complexion bloomed, but he smiled, his own cheeks tinting pink as well. “Oh, wonderful. I would love it too.” He leaned into his friend’s touch, suddenly cognizant of that dark feeling in his mind rising to the surface again. Why was his mind like this? Why did he want to press his lips to Max’s palm? He steeled himself, focusing on his face. “Flowers? What do you mean? I mean, I suppose I could make a bouquet for oddities. Love-in-a-mist for puzzlement, lupine for imagination, perhaps. Maybe phlox, for we are kindred spirits. It mostly grows in America, however…” he sighed again. “Damn… maybe it is hot in here. Are you alright, Max? You’re very rosy.” He chuckled a little, still feeling a slight pounding in his head.

"No. Do not doubt such possibilities for there are many," Max assured. "They might be far or they may be very near right now. Anything can happen, my Ivory. And I mean anything."

Marriage isn't something that he wants think about. Before he had come back to England, it was a possibility, but for these last few orbit parties, his feeling towards it grew bleak. Besides, he has to focus on his practice. And with all the running around and treating all kinds of people, no lady would want to marry such a man as himself. He is as messy as a surgical theater, if not more than one.

This strange sensation crept up upon him. It made his groundhand tap rapidly against the floor. His attention fixated on Ivory against his touch. It focused on the walls closing in, making everything warm. His heart was incredibly loud. How come the walls aren't shaking right now? He wondered if they really were moving.

"Phlox sounds lovely….." Exhales did not help with the rising temperature. He was pretty sure that he was sweating right now. Everything is really warm despite the fact that is a bit gloomy outside. Everything is odd.

"Hm? Me?" Maximillian stared at Ivory confusingly. Looking down at his hand, he swiftly pulled it away to grab his handkerchief. "I am perfectly alright. There is no need to worry about me now…."

Ivory just nodded, his peepers glued to Max. He quieted, seeing something like discomfort on his friend’s face, worried that he had taken the joke too far. But still, at least they could be oddities together. Did they really need to get married, anyway? He had seen the dramas of marriage, including that of his own father and mother, and found it to be rather distasteful. But of course, if he didn’t marry and have a family, it would put the Winn House in jeopardy. But then, it was already in jeopardy now; he was sick, wasn’t he?
His attention soon drifted back to Maximillian. He now did not want to think of it anymore either. “Oh yes, it’s bonita. There’s a diagram of Phlox carolina in one of my grimoires…” he blinked, not sure of what to make of the look on his friend’s face. “Max…” He was a little sad when the hand was no longer caressing his face, but it was no matter. His dear friend was sweating too, not just heating up.
Slowly, he raised his arm, and placed a stiff, unmoving hand on Max’s cheek. Despite the numbness, Ivory could detect its heat. “I know I’m not the healing mage here, Max, but I still worry for you. You look positively feverish.”

Maximillian's mind wandered off into a journey of its own. His gaze became unfocused. Is it just the usual exhaustion that is causing him to behave in such a manner? He thought about things like marriage and Ivory. Luckily, Max is in a position where he doesn't really need to. His older brother is already blessed with two sons, so he can practically do whatever he wants to. He is already dedicating himself to treating all kinds of people from the wealthy to the undesirables. Everyone needs medical care, and he will see to it with or without a wedding band on his finger.

But he wouldn't mind being married to someone in particular. He can't. He just cannot marry them though, that's the problem. They never would be able to. It could just be his illness making him think these silly things. Silly foolish things that are making him dejected from the present.

His heart was pulsating at a faster speed. "Hm?" In a blink, he was brought back to high-res hallucination and looked back at Ivory. Only when he felt his friend's hand on his cheek did he really notice anything. Max really wants to deny the sweating, warming up, and confusion, but he cannot. He doesn't want to.

"Ivory, it's not a fever, that I can assure you." It is the truth. What else can he say? A mega-bunch words laid on his tongue, but he knew that he can lose everything just by letting them be spoken. Everything including Ivory. "There is no need to worry. I will be alright, it is just really warm in here. You are feeling this too, right? Right?"

Ivory studied him intently. No, he wasn’t a healing mage, but he knew a thing or two about human biology, not just plants. His lips pursed. If it really were a fever, Max would also be fatigued and perhaps disoriented. “Truly, it is not? Hmm…”
He blinked as his lips parted slightly. He remembered the warmth of his own cheeks. “Well, now that you mention it, I do feel something…” suddenly he felt rather nervous. “But it is not the human containment unit, no. It is not that warm in here, right? The see-through wall is open. This is something from within me, and perhaps within you… but what is it, if not a fever?” He took his hand away and fumbled with his see-sharpeners a little until they were straightened.
That dark feeling in his mind leapt, but he swiftly pushed it down. He had long since disconnected that strangeness from everything else he feels, he couldn’t accept it as real. Thus, he didn’t not even think to connect the two sensations.
However, his brow knotted. “Is it me?” He asked. “Am I doing something? Have I made you uncomfortable, embarrassed?” Suddenly his mind raced. “, I dearly hope I didn’t overstep my bounds. It has been a long time, maybe things are different now. I didn’t want to suggest anything with the whole talk of marriage and such… I was only joking, I promise! It’s okay Max, you don’t have to sugarcoat things. Just tell me if I’ve been inappropriate, and I will not do it again.” The blush on his cheeks had intensified, and his peepers moistened a little. He hated to think that they had grown distant enough not to joke with each other anymore, he had missed that.

"Huh? Oh…" Maximillian was sure that he meant in the temperature of the human containment unit being warm or that's what he initially thought. In the corner of his peeper, he glimpsed at the opened see-through wall. What if it is something that they both share? Could what Ivory saying be true?

No. No way. Then that would mean he has that condition too; one that Max knows he cannot even cure himself of. "What may you be suggesting then, if it is not a fever we share? I do not know what it could be…." His finger traced along the blanket while he shrugged. "I am not sure….I feel quite alright, although there seems to be some color in your face too."

The voice in his head kept whispering things. It told him to give in, to say what he really wants to say. He needs to hold his tongue or he will ruin everything, including his relationship with Ivory. Perhaps he should just leave before it's too late. They have only reunited after not seeing each other in God only knows how long. If he ruins this, he will regret it for the rest of his life.

Maximillian looked at Ivory. Regret was twisting and turning inside of him. "You are not being inappropriate nor is anything your fault," He assured. "It's just I-"

He frowned. human syrup was still rushing through his face. He was still sweaty. "It is not your fault. I enjoy your joking around. You are more than fine. Believe me."

He studied Maximillian carefully as he spoke. He let out a breath as his worry subsided. “… Alright. Alright. I’ll take comfort in that. But what? What is it?” Ivory reached up, once again touching his cheek, then moving to his forehead. “You are still burning… but it is only your cheeks, it seems. Your forehead is just damp with perspiration. Is that right?”
He then shrugged, taking his hand away. “I don’t know. Perhaps it is just me with a fever. That would make more sense.” But it didn’t. He felt fine, at least, as fine as he could manage. Not long ago he had suffered a fever, and it was awful, much worse than what he is feeling now.
His lips pursed as he glanced from Max’s hand to his face. “Or… perhaps it is simply stress. Maybe you are just worried about something, such as myself, or you are overwhelmed and overworking. Though, I wouldn’t want to assume.” He laid his hand atop of his dear friend’s. A soft chuckle slipped out. “Maybe I’m stressed as well.”